A Story About Nothing
Hello, I'm Joshua Cabrera and I have a problem. You see, it all started on the eve of the 13th day of August. That night I had had chicken for dinner. I was about to light a bottle rocket to shoot into a neighbor's window when all of a sudden, they shot one at me! Now in those days, it was common to shoot bottle rockets at other people. That was our way of saying "Hi" back then. So anyway, the bottle rocket hit me in the leg. Of course in those days, legs were much stronger. In fact I was jitterbuggin' that very night. So I went to the hospital. It wasn't my idea to go to the hospital. It was my mom's. Well we walked 15 miles in the blinding sleet (the weather was odd that night) and climbed 3 vertical miles but finally we arrived at the hospital. Now, keep in mind, this was the 13th of August, so the waiting room was packed. There were so many people, you could pile them up and you'd have a big pile of people. Well eventually it was my turn to see the doctor. Keep in mind this wasn't my choice to see the doctor, it was my mother's. So I walked on into his office and let me tell you, he took one look at my leg and laughed. In those days, you see, doctors were hearty people who could laugh up a storm so big it would blow away the state of Delaware if you gave them a reason to. So after 20 minutes of laughing at my leg, he said there was nothing wrong with me and I should get out of his office as fast as I could and never come back or he'd chase after me with a syringe. Well, to make a long story even longer, we left and headed for home. On our way, though, we came across this hobo. He wasn't any ordinary hobo, however. This was a magical hobo, and he had the power to turn straw into gold and gold into pitas. Well of course we took him up on this offer, and wouldn't you know it, we were happily rewarded. That's right, we had pitas, and let me tell you, a pita from a magical hobo is one heck of a pita. So we all had pitas and a gay old time. Unfortunately, as all things must (excluding this story), our fun had to end. The magical hobo disappeared and my mother and I went home. And that's how computer keyboards got their F12 keys. Boy, do I not have a life.